Red Sky at Morning
by ElleLupin
Summary: Diana Ramos is new to Forks, Washington, and just wants to keep her head down. Nothing exciting ever happens in this rainy town. All she has to do is try her best to survive high school. Easy, right? Wrong. When she meets Jasper Cullen and his enigmatic family, suddenly everything changes. Forks isn't quite as safe as it seems. JASPER/OC
1. Prologue

**Alright, so this is my new story! I've planned far enough ahead that I think I can safely post this chapter. I hope. With this story, I'm going to be doing things a bit differently. Usually, I'll try to hit a word/character count per chapter. I've decided not to do that in this story. In this story, I'm going to write until the chapter reaches a natural ending. That means some chapters will be longer than others, and that's okay. Anyway, wish me luck, and I hope you enjoy! :)  
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 **Disclaimer -This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the Twilight world, which is trademarked by Stephanie Meyer. Many of these characters are created and owned by Stephanie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership of them or their world. The story I tell here is my own invention and is for entertainment only.**

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 **"Red sky at night, sailors' delight.**

 **Red sky at morning, sailors take warning."**

 **-Ancient Rhyme**

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As the sun went down on March 24th, the sky glowed a vibrant red. With James killed, and Bella recently released from the hospital, Forks had returned to the quaint, unassuming town that it usually was. It was a Friday night, and most of the Cullens were scattered throughout their house. Carlisle was still at work, and Esme had gone grocery shopping, in order to keep up the illusion that their family ate.

Well, the Cullens ate, but their meals definitely weren't going to be sold at the Forks Shop-n-Save. Their kind of food was going to be found at the Clallam County Pet Shelter.

Edward and Bella were sitting in the corner by the piano, which Edward was playing intermittently during their conversation. He had tried to teach her, but her fingers had clumsily fallen over the keys, and with her leg cast, she was unable to work the pedals. She had resigned to just listen to Edward play. Emmett and Rosalie were cuddled on the couch. The TV was tuned into the Seattle Mariners game at the lowest possible volume so that they didn't bother Bella (which was clearly Edward's idea). Alice and Jasper were upstairs talking about whatever it was that they talked about.

It all changed in a moment, when Alice appeared downstairs in a flash, causing Bella to flinch in surprise. Jasper appeared a heartbeat later. Alice snatched the TV remote from Emmett, causing Rosalie to snarl at her in annoyance.

"What's the big idea?" asked Emmett angrily, getting to his feet in a fraction of a second, ready to fight his sister for the remote.

As Alice changed the channel, Jasper answered for her. "She had a vision. She won't say what it is."

At that, Emmett begrudgingly took a seat. Sure, the Mariners game was exciting, but this (unfortunately) took precedence. Besides, the Mariners were losing by four, and it wasn't like they would somehow take the lead during this intermission by Alice.

Edward's face broke into a smile as he read Alice's mind and understood what she was so excited about. In a movement quick enough that nobody noticed, his eyes darted to look at his blonde brother.

Bella got to her feet to try to hobble over to the action. She was like a newborn deer with broken legs - not very graceful. Edward hastily gave her a hand. "Alice, is this good news or bad news?" she asked.

"Good news," said Alice excitedly, quaking like a leaf. "Very, very good news. I've been waiting over fifty years for this."

She found the channel she was looking for and sighed irritatedly as she saw it was on a commercial break, imploring viewers with mesothelioma to seek compensation. She turned the volume up so that Bella could hear it. Bella threw a confused glance at Edward, as though to say _vampires don't have mesothelioma, why does Alice care about this?_

"She'll reveal it in a second. She just likes being the center of attention," he whispered into her ear, purposefully loud enough so Alice could hear.

She harrumphed, and stared pointedly at the television, waiting for the commercial to be over. As the compensation ad faded out, a new advertisement took its place, showing little kids fighting over a breakfast cereal.

The vampires (and Bella) watched the commercial with a newfound interest, waiting for whatever it was that Alice had seen to be revealed. The house was eerily silent.

As the cereal commercial ended, a banner flashed up on screen.

"Breaking News," said the news anchor, a tired-looking man in a tan suit. "My name is Jonathan Gibson, and I'm with Channel Five News. Hurricane Baxter, which has been steadily tracked by meteorologists over the past week, has unexpectedly changed its path. For more, we'll be going to Tim with the weather. Tim, what's new with Hurricane Baxter?"

"You're making me watch hurricane updates instead of the Mariners game?" asked Emmett is disbelief. "Alice, give me the remote."

Alice shushed him, pointing at the screen. "Be patient, Emmett. Just watch."

"Well, Jonathan," said Tim, a man whose ugly mustard-yellow tie did his pale complexion no justice. "Meteorologists have been excitedly tracking Hurricane Baxter, as it is one of the most powerful hurricanes to appear this early in the hurricane season. The Category Four hurricane, which has been moving westward in the Caribbean, was expected to follow wind currents and spin out over the sea, with a tropical depression possibly hitting the southeastern tip of Mexico, and traveling into the Gulf of Mexico. However, the wind currents have unexpectedly changed. Hurricane Baxter is now hurtling for the small nation of Belize, a tropical country known for its crude oil, petroleum, and agriculture. The hurricane is expected to make landfall later tonight, with the death toll in the hundreds, if not thousands. The island is being given little-to-no time to prepare, and is expected to be dealt billions of dollars in damages."

Alice turned off the TV, leaving the room completely silent, apart from Bella's breathing.

"I don't understand what relevance this has to us," said Rosalie pointedly, her golden eyes narrowed.

Alice turned to Jasper, whose beautiful golden eyes stared back at her curiously. "Jasper," she implored her best friend, "Do you remember what I told you when we first met?"

He nodded, thinking back to when they had first met.

 _It was 1948, in a small diner in Philadelphia. Jasper was sitting at the bar, swirling a scotch and soda, wishing he could remember what it was like to feel drunk. The bartender, a blonde haired girl named Millie, had given him the drink in good faith. All Jasper could think about was drinking from Millie instead._

 _The seat next to him was suddenly filled by a short-haired, golden-eyed girl. She was clearly a vampire, she smelled like one, but it was a bit of a different smell. She smelled like a mix of animal and human blood. It was bizarre, and nothing he had ever smelled before. And her eyes - sure, she was a vampire, he knew that much, but her eyes were almost human-like. Nothing like the disgusting red eyes that he was currently hiding behind sunglasses. She absolutely radiated joy, and it warmed him to his core. Joy was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long, long time._

 _"Jasper, it's so nice to finally meet you," she said with a breathy smile. "My name is Alice. Alice Brandon." she held out her hand for him to shake._

 _He hesitated, looking at her hand with a sense of uncertainty. "How do you know my name?"_

 _She took her hand back without missing a beat. "I know a lot about you. That's kind of my thing - I know a lot. Well, actually, I can see the future, but they kind of go hand-in-hand. I've seen a lot of you, Jasper. I think our fates are meant to be intertwined."_

 _Jasper gave her a quick once-over, too fast for the human eye to see. She was beautiful, even more so than other vampires. "Alright, Alice. What have you seen of me?"_

 _She leaned on the counter with a sparkle in her eye. "You have the ability to feel and manipulate emotions. You and I are going to be great friends. We're going to travel west, and meet a family of vampires called the Cullens. They're vegetarians, in the sickest sense of the word."_

 _He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Vegetarians?"_

 _Alice nodded. "Vegetarians in our world. They survive off of just animal blood. No humans need to die for them to live. I've been trying to do it for the past year. It's hard, and I've broken a couple of times, but it's doable. They can teach us their way of life, of course."_

 _"I don't believe it," said Jasper with a sad smile. "It's not possible for people like you and me to survive off of animals. They don't have what we need to survive."_

 _"It's not the same life that you're used to," she admitted. "When you live off of animal blood, you aren't nearly as strong as when you rely on human blood, but you can live." She hesitated for a beat and then continued at a softer level. "I know that you feel the emotions of the humans that you kill… If you come with me to the Cullens, you don't have to feel that way anymore."_

 _Jasper almost didn't want to believe her, out of fear of getting his hopes up. However, he felt her earnesty and faith reverberating through him, and a little voice in his ear said he could trust her._

 _"I've seen other great things in your future, Jasper," she said truthfully. "But only if you come with me to the Cullens. In the future, you'll have a mate."_

 _For a split second, Jasper felt an ounce of regret, as he realized his mate wasn't Alice. He hesitated for a second before asking who his mate was._

 _"Her name is Diana," said Alice with a broad smile, showing her pearly white teeth. "You'll be incredibly happy together. I can't see much. My vision gets blurrier the further ahead that I look. She's pretty and nice, and you'll love her like you've never loved anyone before."_

 _"And?"_

 _Alice's smile faltered for a second. "That's all I can see. Only flashes of your future with her. I know she's coming, but I'm not sure when. I'm not surer how you'll meet, either. That part's constantly changing. But you'll be happy, that's all I know."_

 _Jasper paused, reflecting on what Alice had just said. It was so much to take in, but it was everything he had wanted to hear and more._

 _"So, Jasper?" Alice asked, holding her hand out to him once again. "Do you want to come with me and find the Cullens?"_

 _Her happiness and trustworthiness were contagious. He took her hand and shook it firmly. For the first time in a century, he felt hope._

Shaking himself out from his memories, Jasper threw a quick glance at Alice. "Diana?" he asked simply.

She just nodded, a smile stretched across her porcelain features. "She's coming to Forks."

Instead of the joy that Alice clearly expected him to feel, Jasper suddenly found himself overwhelmed with fear. He always thought that he'd have more time to prepare before meeting Diana. If vampires could dream, he'd have dreamt of this day for the past fifty years. Now, Diana was coming to Forks, and there couldn't have been a worse time. Diana was his singer, they'd figured that much out by now. How the hell could having a singer around an unstable vampire end well? He might as well start planning the funeral of his mate.

Jasper glanced at Alice in a way that was half-love, half-hate. Ever since they'd met in the diner, Jasper had been deeply attracted to Alice. She was beautiful and funny, albeit a bit quirky. She was a vampire - he didn't have to worry about pining for her blood, or begin mentally preparing himself for every time her heart beat. On one hand, Alice was helping Jasper come together with his mate. On the other hand, she was sentencing his mate to death.

Why the hell couldn't Alice have been his soulmate? He wouldn't have to worry about killing her. He wouldn't have to worry about her rejecting him for being a vampire. That was something that was well within the realm of a vampire-human relationship. Not many humans were like Bella, completely open to the idea of vampires. There was a strong sense of helplessness within Jasper, as he wondered what the hell he was going to do about Diana.

"Who's Diana?" asked Bella distantly.

Emmett's booming voice brought Jasper brought to earth. "Jasper's future mate. We've known she was coming but never knew when. I guess this is it. So, what? Does she come to Forks after fleeing Hurricane Baxter? Or do we go somewhere to meet her?"

Alice nodded. "She should be in town within the next week. I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this moment for the last 50 years!" She gave Jasper a dazzling smile, which happened nearly every minute, but still threw him for a loop every time it happened. "Jasper, aren't you excited? You're finally meeting your mate!"

Jasper cracked a dazed smile. At that moment, he felt anything but excited.

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 **Alright, so that's that. I've always hated writing prologues, but I felt that this was important. Let me know what you think by reviewing, even if it's super short! Support goes a long way :)**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


	2. 1 - Welcome to Forks!

**Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter! I know this update is fairly quick, but it's winter break, so I actually have the time to write. Anyway, here's the first chapter from our main character, Diana's point of view.**

 **Enjoy!**

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I let out a deep breath as the plane touched down at the William R. Fairchild International Airport. It was the airport that served Port Angeles, AKA the last place I wanted to be in the world. The plane hurtled onwards, and for a moment I was worried it wouldn't stop, but then I was thrown forward as the pilot slammed on the breaks. The loud groan of the plane filled the air.

The plane continued taxiing for almost five minutes until it came to stop at one of the terminals. I let out a deep sigh. Flying wasn't usually something I hated, but for some reason, I was filled with so much dread.

Maybe I wasn't dreading the flying. Maybe I was dreading what came next.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Flight 233 from PDX to CLM, we have now arrived at our destination. It is currently a brisk 34 degrees outside, with strong winds from the northeast. It is 7 PM local time, and your luggage will be expected to hit the carousels at roughly 7:30. Please remain seated and give us a moment to connect to the terminal, and then exit in an orderly fashion. Have a great day in Port Angeles, and thank you for flying Pacific Airlines."

I didn't need to grab anything from the overhead cabinet, so I anxiously waited for the flight attendant to give us the go-ahead so we could exit the plane. The aisles were filled with people who were ignoring her requests. When the flight attendants stepped to the side to allow us to exit the plane, I slowly trudged out into the airport. The arm that was connecting the plane to the airport had two or three holes in the room. A raindrop fell through one of the holes and hit me square on the forehead.

I sighed. _Welcome to Washington state._

I like the rain, don't get me wrong. There's a lot of good things about rain. Plants couldn't grow without it. It's a great idea in theory, but as of late, I don't like getting wet. Well, it looks like it was something I'd have to get used to.

I trudged my way through the airport, with not much other than the clothes on my back and a small duffle bag that had been small enough to cram under my airplane seat. Even then, the clothes that I was wearing had earned me a few odd looks in the airport. The smell probably didn't help either. Ratty overalls with mud stains nearly knee-high, a dirty yellow t-shirt, and brown ankle-high work boots that were two sizes too large, and made me walk around like a clown. The shirt had a mysterious stain on the sleeve that looked a bit like a dog. Or maybe I was just bored on the flight.

After I exited the TSA approved area, I saw the first familiar face I'd seen in awhile. My Aunt Gemma. She looked exhausted, with more dark bags under her eyes than a new mom. She was wearing pale blue scrubs, white sneakers, and a blue Seattle Seahawks lanyard around her neck. She had clearly come straight from her shift at the hospital. Last I heard, she had taken up a job as a pediatric nurse at Port Angeles General. If she ever got enough rest, she could probably be considered beautiful. She had long, golden blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, and was tall enough to be a model. However, her hair was currently greasy and pulled back into a bun, her eyes were sunken and overshadowed by the dark bags, and she was slightly hunched over, her skin pale from lack of sun exposure. She looked much worse than 35 years old.

When she saw me, she tried to give a smile, but it faltered terribly. She walked over to give me a hand with my bag, despite the fact that it was nearly empty.

"Hey, Diana. How've you been?" she asked in a slightly raspy voice.

I shrugged, keeping the bag tight on my shoulder. "Been better. You?"

She nodded distantly. "Been better," she repeated faintly and then shook her head. "Here, I'll show you where the car is."

I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and followed her to the parking garage. It was thankfully covered, so I didn't have to get any wetter. This was how I liked rain - from a dry distance. We walked in silence for a bit, neither one of us willing to fill it.

Aunt Gemma broke it. "So, are you excited to go to a more traditional high school? Get the American experience?"

"I guess," I said quietly, fidgeting with the frayed strap on the duffle bag. God, I felt awkward. I didn't even know how to talk to her. "It'll be fun. Might join some clubs. Does Forks High have a softball team?"

She opened her mouth to respond but didn't. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Probably? Michael would know more than I do."

Michael was her husband. I'd only met him a couple of times, as he was terrified of traveling and never visited, but god, he was a character. He was a writer, and eight years ago, he'd written a bestselling book called "When the Nightingale Calls". It brought in millions in royalties, and there was the talk of a movie deal, but Michael had yet to write anything since. He was fairly eccentric and funny, but a great guy with a good heart.

"How's Uncle Michael doing?" I asked because it was expected of me.

She nodded and then realized it wasn't a yes-or-no question. "Oh, uh… He's good. Still writing. Trying to come up with a sequel to Nightingale. I think he needs a bit of inspiration. Maybe you can help him out."

I shrugged. "Maybe."

I doubted I could.

We continued walking in the pregnant pause until we reached Aunt Gemma's car. It was a new-looking light blue Prius. There was a dent in the driver's door. I don't think that I looked at the dent for particularly long, but apparently, Aunt Gemma thought I did.

"I got hit last week on the freeway," she said lamely. "Totally my fault. I was too tired to be driving."

Well, she sure looked tired now. Suddenly I had another reason why I didn't want to be in the car with her.

"Do you want me to drive?" I asked, eyeing her Seahawks keychain with a newfound interest.

She shook her head. "No, I got lots of sleep last night. I'm fine to drive. Besides, do you have your license?" she asked as she popped the trunk. I tossed my dirty duffle bag in the back.

 _Jesus, if this was what she looked like fully rested…_ "No," I admitted as we circled the car, and I got into the passenger seat. She sat down stiffly in the driver's seat."The driving age in Belize is 18 years old. The police in my area aren't really around, though. I've driven my parent's car loads of times."

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Why did I mention my parents? _Am I dumb, or just stupid?_

Aunt Gemma started the ignition, staring blankly ahead. She was my mom's sister. I shouldn't have brought her up.

As we left the parking garage, rain began drenching the car. I had heard harsher rain before, but this was still surprisingly strong. The windshield wipers were going full speed, flinging rain dramatically off the car.

"You're chewing your lip," said Aunt Gemma plainly.

And so I was. I stopped. "Sorry," I admitted delicately. "Bad habit."

The tension in the air was so thick, you could've sliced it with a dull knife. A minute passed as I watched Aunt Gemma merge onto the highway.

I watched her throat as she swallowed heavily. "So," she said, roughly changing the subject. "Michael is going to take you shopping tomorrow in the city. Buy some clothes and whatever else you need. I can't come along because I'm working. Michael should be good company, though. Don't let him forget about buying school supplies. I've got you enrolled at Forks High. I've written to your old school about getting your credits transferred, but I'm not expecting them to answer anytime soon. You might have to sort out some scheduling errors when you get there because I have no idea what your academic history is."

I nodded stiffly. "Thanks," I said, probably a beat too late.

"Have you started thinking about college?" she asked because God knows that's all that aunts ever ask about.

"No."

"You're a junior, so you probably should. Do you want to get recruited for sports?"

"I guess."

"Is softball competitive to get recruited for?"

"I don't know."

"I read an article in the New York Times last week that the easiest sport to get recruited for is fencing. Have you ever thought about taking it up, in addition to softball? I also read that most sports recruits play more than one sport. It's not too late to take up a summer sport."

"I think I'm fine with just playing softball."

"You know, your mom knew the softball coach at University of Washington-"

"Aunt Gemma," I interrupted firmly. My hands were now clenched into fists. "I'm actually really jetlagged, so I'm going to try to catch up on some sleep before we get back to your house. We have an early day tomorrow, what with us heading into the city."

She nodded. Her fists were clenched around the steering wheel so hard, her knuckles were a stark white. "Alright. Sounds good."

I leaned up against the seat, my back facing my aunt. It wasn't a lie, I _was_ jetlagged, but I've always been terrible at sleeping in cars. I just really didn't want to talk to my aunt. I closed my eyes on the off chance she could see my reflection in the window and thought about my parents.

My mom, Abigail, and my Aunt Gemma had always been really close growing up. They were actually from a town not far from Forks. My mom was five years older and had always kept a close eye on my Aunt Gemma. Apparently, when she was younger, my Aunt Gemma had been a wild kid, and my mom had kept her in line. My mom had played softball and had gotten a scholarship to the University of Washington, where she studied business. During her third year of college, she managed to convince her softball coach to let her study abroad and ended up in Belize. That's where she met my father, Sebastian. He had apparently been super rude when they first met, and she'd thrown her drink in his face. When he came back to apologize, it was love at second sight.

According to my dad, my mom was an angel. Long, golden blonde hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Pale (easily burned) skin with hundreds of freckles. She had a laugh you could hear long before you entered the room. She was beautiful and wild and was held down to earth by my dad. My dad was the more serious of the two. Born and raised on a lemon farm in rural Belize, which I grew up on. He had dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes that lit up every time my mom entered the room.

After my mom graduated from the University of Washington, she went back down to Belize, where she married my dad. She never went back to Washington, save for my Aunt Gemma's wedding. I think my Aunt Gemma always resented her for that. My mom had me when she was 24, and she was the best mom I could have ever asked for. With her business degree, she helped my dad take his family's lemon business to a whole new level. We became one of the biggest lemon farms in Belize.

That's how I suddenly found myself rich beyond belief. Well, that, and insurance payouts. Most of the money was put into a trust until I turned 18. The rest was suddenly deposited into my bank account.

My mom had been amazing. She was actually who taught me how to play softball. It wasn't an incredibly popular sport in Belize. Soccer, volleyball, and cricket were the most popular in my town. My mom ended up pulling together a team, and I'd played since I was five. I had the scars to prove it.

Growing up in the lemon orchard, my parents both worked from dawn until dusk. I had to keep myself busy, so I'd settled on going around the farm and helping out wherever I could. I learned to bake from an early age. I started taking care of my mom's plants and discovered my magic touch with plants. I even tried to fix up the machines whenever they needed it, but I was never too good at that. When I got super bored, I would try to pull pranks on my parents. Mostly my dad. He would softly call me a Boggart whenever he walked into my pranks. My mom liked to focus on the good things that I did, so she called me a Brownie. They were like two sides of the same coin.

The car slowed to a stop. I sat up and looked through the darkness as best as I could at where we were. I'd clearly been distracted for longer than I thought. I guess this was the house. My home for the next year and a half, until I go off to college.

It was a big house, that's for sure. It looked like Uncle Michael's book money was doing them well. It was a two-story traditional grey house, with white trimming and a deep red door. The window shutters were a dark grey, near black.

"Diana, you're up," commented Aunt Gemma. "This is the house. We're just down the street from the school. I'm sure Michael will show you tomorrow."

I fake-yawned, deeming it appropriate. "Looks great, Aunt Gemma."

She didn't answer, instead just hopping out of the door. I followed, heading around to the trunk to grab my duffle bag. It was still pouring rain, which I hated, so I quickly slammed the trunk closed, and ran under the protection of the porch. Aunt Gemma was already inside, so I followed her, closing the door behind me.

The door opened up into the living room, which was cozily decorated with reds, golds, and browns. It was clearly something my Uncle Michael had done. If Aunt Gemma had her way, I had no doubt the house would be cold, gray, and bleak. There was definitely a _bit_ of compromise though. I had no doubt that if Uncle Michael had had his way completely, the house would be a lot more eccentric.

Speaking of Uncle Michael, he had stood up from the couch as I'd entered. He was a tall, lanky man, who always looked a bit hunched over. He was attractive, no doubt, but unconventional. He had thick black glasses, ear-length wiry brown hair, and thick eyebrows. He was like a weird, tall, modern, Albert Einstein. He definitely looked like a writer.

"Diana!" he said warmly, crossing the room in a few strides, and enveloping me in a huge hug. I was surprised. I was literally covered in dirt, but he didn't seem to care.

"Hey, Uncle Michael," I said hesitantly.

He scoffed, "Please, just Michael. I'm not going to go around calling you Niece Diana. How was the flight?"

I shrugged. "Uneventful. How are you?"

His eye twitched. "I'm alright. Struggling with writer's block, but then again, I have for the past eight years."

"Michael," interrupted Aunt Gemma, "I'm sure Diana's tired and would love to get some sleep. Would you mind showing her to her room?"

He nodded brightly. "Sure thing, babe. Downstairs is mine and Gemma's room, the living room, the kitchen, and a bathroom. Nothing interesting. Upstairs is mine and Gemma's study, another bathroom, and a guest room, which is now yours. Come on, I'll show you around."

I took off my dirty boots and left them at the door, and followed him upstairs. The warm color scheme continued upstairs. He first showed me the bathroom. It wasn't anything special, just the typical guest bathroom. Lots of white. There were some fake flowers in a vase next to the sink. Above the toilet was a framed banana leaf pattern.

"Towels are in the cabinet in the hallway. Shampoo and conditioner are under the sink. I think Gemma keeps some girl necessities under there. I've never checked. If you need any, let me or Gemma know. Probably Gemma. I don't really know anything about girl issues, other than that they happen once a month, and that I should steer clear when it happens."

The next door was my room. To be frank, it was gorgeous. The walls were a pale grey, and the high vaulted ceiling was white. There were two french windows looking out over a lush green forest. In between the windows was the bed. It was a wooden frame, with a white duvet that had a subtle pastel floral design. In the corner, there was a green and white wicker rocking chair with a white blanket thrown over one of the arms. On the walls were framed photos of flowers. To the right of the bed, there was a white dresser with fake flowers in a vase on top. Next to the door was a light wooden desk, with another vase of flowers. On the bed were a folded pair of plaid pajamas, and what looked like jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Gemma said that you liked flowers, so I redecorated for you last week," said Michael. "You do like flowers, right?"

I smiled at him brightly. "I do. Thank you so much, Michael."

He seemed pleased that I liked the room. "Yeah, of course, Diana. I want you to feel welcome here. Life is hard enough for you, you might as well have one less thing to worry about. Pajamas are on the bed for you. There are also some clothes for tomorrow. I'll leave you to take a shower and go to bed. We're leaving for Port Angeles tomorrow at nine, so make sure you get enough rest. Good night, Diana."

"Good night, Michael. Thanks again."

He closed the door behind him as he left. God, I loved Michael. He was chatty to the right degree but antisocial enough to leave you alone most of the time. I listened as his footsteps walked down the stairs. A murmuring that was too faint for me to hear came from his conversation downstairs with Aunt Gemma.

I went out into the hallway as quietly as I could, hoping to eavesdrop, but they were still too faint to hear. I grabbed a towel from the cabinet from the hallway, shampoo from under the sink, and started up the shower, waiting for the hot water heater to kick in. As I waited, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the sink.

I wasn't beautiful, but I wasn't ugly either. I was in the middle ground, where most people fall under. My mom was beautiful. My dad was in the middle ground. I undoubtedly took after my dad.

My hair was greasy at the moment, as I hadn't properly showered in a week. Usually, though, it was soft and bouncy and hit right at the shoulder in faint waves. I had dark roots, like my dad, but spending hours in the sun had lightened my hair, making it three shades lighter at the tips than the roots. I wasn't quite a brunette, but I wasn't quite blonde. I was bronde, I guess. My eyes, which were probably my favorite part of my face, were wide and doe-like. They were mostly brown, with a hint of green if you looked in the right light. My eyes were also hooded, which made eyeliner a nightmare, and always made me look a bit angrier than I was. I'm also taller than normal, at 5'6", which was actually fairly useful as a catcher. I was able to catch more balls that way. I had an athletic and slim body, with most of my muscles in my thighs and butt, and my broader-than-usual shoulders. I also had _no_ boobs to speak of. If anything, in direct sunlight, they were almost concave. As for what else I hate about myself - I have a jaw that's a bit too masculine for my liking, and my nose is crooked from breaking it when I was thirteen. I also have an unhealthy amount of scars. I have a scar through my right eyebrow from falling down the stairs when I was a kid. There are scars all over my arms and legs from softball throughout the years. There's a scar on my chin from last summer when I took a line drive to the face, and my chin split wide open. That was a fun one to explain to my dad.

When the water heated up enough, I stepped in. I had a pit in the bottom of my stomach about being wet, but I was also covered in a week's worth of mud and dirt, which sponge baths never really got rid of. The water ran brown for almost a minute. Afterwards, I quickly washed my hair with a coconut shampoo and conditioner and spent almost five minutes trying to detangle the rat's nest that sat on my head. I rinsed off with a pomegranate body wash and then hopped out of the shower.

Back in my room, feeling refreshed, I changed into the pajamas that Gemma (read: Michael) had left for me. There was also a clean pair of underwear because God knows the mental toll that wearing the same pair of underwear for a week can do to you.

As I crawled into bed and turned off the lights, I listened to the sound of rain on the roof above me.

Growing up, my dad had always celebrated when it rained. It meant less watering for him and his workers. When it rained, in seasons where the lemons weren't ready to be harvested, my dad spent the whole day inside with me, instead of out tending to the plants. My mom would make hot chocolate the American way but would sneak cayenne into my dad's cup, the way he liked it. I hated getting wet, yeah, but the rain brought back memories like that. Maybe Forks wouldn't be too bad.

I was expecting it to take me a while to fall asleep, but jet lag hit me harder than I'd thought it would. Before I knew it, I was out cold.

* * *

 **Alright, so there it is! Let me know what you think of Diana, Aunt Gemma, and Michael. Or if you have any questions from the last chapter, let me know!**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


	3. 2 - Shopping Trip!

**Ahh, sorry about the delay! I know it's only been three weeks, but it feels like it's been forever! I got sick and then I had finals and blah.**

 **Thank you _so_ much to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter. It honestly means so much, as I'm sure any other author will tell you. **

**Well, here's the new chapter! It's really just to help you get to know Diana, Gemma, and Michael. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think with a lil review!**

* * *

Michael woke me up the next morning with a soft knock on the door.

"Yeah?" I asked groggily, trying to sit up in bed. I had put my hair in a ponytail when I went to sleep, but it had fallen out at some point during the night.

"Are you decent?"

I sniffed ungracefully. "Uh-huh."

The door creaked open, and he poked his head in. His hair was even crazier than it had been yesterday. "I'm making breakfast. We should be heading out in about thirty minutes. Get dressed and do your hair, or whatever it is that girls do, and come downstairs when you're ready. Do bacon and eggs sounds good to you?"

I nodded slowly, still a bit out of it.

He grinned crookedly. "Great! See you downstairs soon." He closed the door behind him.

I sighed, trying to find the motivation to get out of bed. It took a couple of minutes of staring at the ceiling, but I eventually did. I had to change back into my dirty bra, which wasn't fun. Note to self - buy a new bra. The rest of the outfit was definitely Gemma's. It was a pair of jeans that were a bit too tight on my thighs and butt, and a sweatshirt that was too loose around my chest. Story of my life.

Too tired to do anything about my hair, I settled on putting it into two dutch braids, finishing them off with dusty hair ties I'd found in the bathroom cabinet.

Downstairs, Aunt Gemma was in her scrubs again, and Michael in a sweater and khakis. He looked happy to see me, and Aunt Gemma was nursing a cup of coffee, looking ready to murder. I'm not even sure if she noticed me enter the room. I honestly don't understand how they ended up together. They're complete opposites.

"Hey, Diana! Sleep well?" asked Michael.

Aunt Gemma looked surprised to see me, as though she'd forgotten that she was now my legal guardian.

"Yeah, I slept great," I answered, taking a seat at the island bar.

Michael scooped a hearty amount of eggs and bacon onto my plate, and handed it to me, sliding me a fork. "Wheels up in ten minutes. Are you ready?"

"I have to grab my wallet from my duffle bag, but otherwise, yeah," I said, digging into the eggs. Holy shit, they were delicious. They melted in the mouth, had just the right amount of cheese, and were nice and smooth. "These are amazing, Michael. What's your secret?"

"It's a bit gross," he admitted. "I don't want to ruin it for you."

I shrugged with a small smile. "It can't be that bad. Seriously, what's-"

"It's goat's milk." Aunt Gemma interrupted our banter coldly.

A silence hung in the air. I took a slow bite of the bacon.

"Are you sure you don't want anything, Gemma?" Michael broke the silence. "Just the coffee?"

She nodded, running a hand through her hair.

I finished my meal in silence, as Michael washed the pans from breakfast. When I finished, I ducked into the kitchen and popped my plate and fork into the dishwasher. "Tasted great, Michael," I said, giving him a small smile. "I'm going to grab my wallet, and I'll be good to go."

I brushed past Gemma, who was still nursing a cup of coffee with an irritated look. Upstairs, I dug through the mostly-empty duffle bag (it's not like I had much) and grabbed my wallet, tucking it into my back pocket. I took the stairs at a near-gallop.

"Completely ready? Not forgetting anything?" asked Michael.

I shook my head.

"Let's get on the road, then," he said, leading the way to the car. It was raining, but much lighter than it had been last night. Gemma took the passenger seat, and I sat in the back. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to disperse the rainwater so it would dry quicker.

"So, Diana, are you excited about school tomorrow?" Michael asked nonchalantly.

I paused to think. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm a bit worried about being put in the wrong classes, but I'm sure they'll understand."

"Yeah," he agreed. "And even if you are put in the wrong class, all of the teachers at Forks High are great. They'll be lucky to have you."

"Thanks," I said gingerly, biting my lip. I still hoped I wouldn't be put in the wrong class.

Michael made a right turn, putting us on the highway back towards Port Angeles. "You play softball, don't you? Do you think you'll try out for the Forks High team?"

"Are they any good?" I asked.

"Are they any good?" Scoffed Michael, apparently a passionate follower of the Forks High softball team. "They're a great team! They lost in the state finals three years ago, and with the leadership they have for the team this year, it looks like they'll go all the way again. God, the whole town went nuts when we made it to the semifinals. Everyone in town knows about the team, and everyone's hoping they pull it off this year."

"I didn't know about the team," said Gemma, and I almost detected a hint of hurt in her voice.

Michael quickly backtracked, "Oh, I'm sorry, babe. Three years ago was your last year of residency, you were so busy, I don't blame you for forgetting about the softball team. You can focus on it this year, though, especially if Diana's on the team!"

"Hmm," she said, and that was it. We drove the rest of the thirty-minute drive in complete silence, save for the quiet humming of the Prius, and the faint folk songs on the radio. Apparently, the silence was a common thing when Gemma was around.

Michael pulled up to the hospital's entrance, and Gemma slowly crawled out. "Have a great day at work, Gem. Love you loads."

"Love you too," she said back, quietly before slamming the door shut.

As we drove around downtown Port Angeles, trying to find parking, Michael found himself trying to explain Gemma. "She usually isn't like this. She's usually the nicest woman you've ever met. She's just so stressed. With what happened with your parents, she decided to take up extra shifts at the hospital to keep herself busy. She's grieving, exhausted, and stressed, and I know she doesn't mean to, but she's taking it out on you a bit. Give her some time. She's hurting."

I'm hurting too, I wanted to say.

"Don't worry, Michael," I said instead with a shrug. "I completely understand."

"There we go," he said as he found a parking spot. "No meter, too! My prayers have been answered."

We shopped for several hours. I won't bore you with the details. The one upside of this situation was that I got to recreate my entire closet from scratch. Finally, a chance to have the aesthetic I'd always dreamed of. I ended up getting a lot of skirts, crop tops, and sneakers, with some comfier clothes thrown in (read: sweatshirts and leggings). Michael told me I was going to be cold, but I didn't really believe him. How cold could it get here? We're on the coast.

At one in the afternoon, arms full with shopping bags, we sat down to lunch at a little Italian restaurant.

"What was your high school like back in Belize?" asked Michael as he sipped on his water. I'd ordered a ginger ale but it hadn't arrived yet.

I tapped my fingers on the table as I thought about how to answer. "It was fun. It was definitely different than Forks High. Back in Belize, I went to a private Catholic school. Uniform and everything. It'll be nice to not have to wear the same clothes to school every day."

"I didn't know your family was Catholic," he said. "I know your mom wasn't, but is your dad?"

"No," I admitted. "My mom just really wanted what was best for me, so she enrolled me at the best school in Belize. It was a bit of a commute every morning, but I think it was worth it - even if I did have to pretend to be Catholic."

"Where was the school?"

"It was about thirty minutes southwest of the orchard. In Punta Gorda, which is a big fishing town. It's the capital of the Toldeo district of Belize. It's a pretty town. There were lots of cool historical sites we could go to for field trips. Just inland, towards my house, was the abandoned Maya city of Lubaatun. Since the school was private and had a lot of influence on the community, we got to see cool things like that."

Michael nodded sheepishly. "Well, you're not really going to get that kind of experience at Forks High."

I felt a bit guilty all of a sudden. I didn't want him to think I wasn't appreciative of Forks High. "I'm sure it's a great school," I said hesitantly. "It'll be nice to have a normal, American experience."

"Yeah, I suppose," he said. "I went to public school and I turned out alright."

At that moment, his phone started ringing. The name SAMANTHA showed up on caller ID. Michael quickly denied the call, and in his haste, nearly knocked the phone across the table.

"Who's Samantha?" I asked nosily.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, a bit like a fish. "I know that this looks bad, but I swear that I'm not cheating on Gemma-"

"Wait, you're cheating on Gemma?"

"No!" he said a little too loudly, causing an elderly couple at the table over to look at us curiously, "I swear I'm not!" he lowered his voice, "Samantha is my agent. She calls all the time. If you ever see her calling, say I'm not home."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why would you feel the need to clarify that you're not cheating? Why didn't you just say that she was your agent outright?"

"I dunno, because I'm stupid?" he said honestly, taking a shaky sip of his drink. "And I assumed that you would jump to that conclusion."

Was this where a public school education was going to get me?

I snorted. God, Michael was a nerd. And not the smart kind. "Why don't you want to talk to your agent?"

He sighed dramatically, stirring his water with his straw. "She always wants me to write something. It's been eight years since I released When the Nightingale Calls, and I don't think I'll ever write something that good again. She's constantly telling me that I need to put something out there, but I have genuinely no good ideas."

The waiter came by with my ginger ale. "Are you two ready to order?"

I hadn't even taken a look at the menu yet. I quickly flipped to the pasta section. That seemed like a good place to start.

"Yeah, I'll have the chicken cacciatore. Diana?"

"I'll have the…" my eyes scanned the menu, settling on a word that looked familiar. "Butternut squash ravioli."

The waiter took my menu and gave us a slightly bored smile. "Sounds good. Your food should be out shortly."

Michael stirred his water with his straw again, as I took a sip of my ginger ale. "I've had writer's block for the past eight years. I haven't been struck by inspiration yet, and believe me, it won't come now."

"I'm sure you've thought of something." I said, "Maybe what sounds bad to you is good to other people."

Michael scoffed, in a yeah-right tone. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a small and very worn black pocketbook. He slid it across the table to me. "I carry this with me anywhere, in case inspiration strikes. Read the ideas."

"I dunno, it seems a bit personal. Is this why you're so interested in Forks sports teams? You have to have something to do other than write?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Seriously, Diana. Read the ideas."

I opened up the notebook midway.

Harry Potter but with rats?

Horror story about Furbies. Except not furbies, because they'll call it defamation and sue.

A new mom takes down the MLM industry from her home office.

Man discovers he's a ghost. That's it.

"Wow, these are terrible," I said bluntly.

He groaned, leaning back in his seat. "Can you see why I don't want to talk to Samantha? Or Gemma, for that matter. She's getting frustrated with me too."

"Join the club."

"She's not frustrated with you specifically, Diana," he said, taking back his notebook and tucking it into his pocket. "She's frustrated with a lot of things and taking it out on you. Please, please don't take it to heart. I'll talk to her tonight."

I shrugged, taking a sip of my drink. It was kind of hard not to take it personally.

"Here, let's change the subject," said Michael. "How'd you get the scar on your chin?"

"Softball," I explained, "I play catcher, and that's all I really want to play. Back in Belize, when my mom got a local softball team started, the coach was a guy who knew baseball, not softball. And even then, he didn't know much. He thought that everyone should be able to play every position, which just… isn't true. About a year ago, he was having me play shortstop, which I kind of hate. My friend Maria was up to bat, and she hit a line drive right to my face. It practically split my chin. I didn't even have a chance to react. After that though, he stopped making us switch positions."

This was part of why I liked Michael so much. He was ridiculously easy to talk to. When I was talking to Aunt Gemma, it felt forced, and like I was walking on pins and needles around her. With Michael, he barely knew my parents. I didn't feel the need to avoid talking about my mom.

"Is there anything else you want to go shopping for today?"

I smiled as I thought about one of my favorite things on earth. "Plants."

* * *

 **There's the chapter! Please let me know what you think with a review! It helps so much. What did you think of Diana? Of Gemma? Of Michael? There's so much stuff I'd love feedback on!**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


	4. 3 - First Day of School!

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! It really means a lot. I was asked if I had someone in mind as a reference for her character. I think the closest actress I have would be Teresa Palmer, but Diana has a bit more of a masculine jawline, a crooked nose, and her facial scars on her eyebrow and her chin. Wow, Diana's a mess.**

 **I changed the cover so that you can have a picture of her when you read it! Again, she isn't a perfect casting, but that's okay :)**

 **Anyway, here's Diana's first day of school! Let's see how many things can go wrong.**

* * *

It was my first day of school. Well, not really. It was my first day of school at Forks High. Go Spartans, or whatever.

My alarm went off at 6:30, and I somehow managed to stumble out of bed and into the shower. I was exhausted. I'd stayed up late doing online driver's ed for eight hours. I was up until just past two in the morning. Why did I stay up so late? Well, I felt really bad about having to rely on Aunt Gemma or Michael to drive me everywhere. 16 was the legal driving age in Washington, so I might as well partake in another traditional American activity.

I gave my legs a much-needed shave and went back into my room. After Michael and I had finished getting clothes yesterday, I'd dropped into a nursery, and bought an unhealthy amount of plants. Gone were the vases filled with fake flowers. They were replaced by little succulents. By the windows were some pots filled with dirt and ferns. I'd always had a green thumb. In my whole 16 years of living, I'd never had a plant die on me before. It probably had something to do with growing up in an orchard. I quickly watered them and made sure I didn't have residual dirt anywhere on my hands.

After I dried my hair, I got dressed in a white crop top, black skater skirt, a grey cardigan, black fishnets, and black vans. I hadn't bought that much makeup yesterday, so all I put on was concealer to cover my dark undereye circles, clear brow gel, mascara, and some chapstick.

After grabbing my backpack and heading downstairs, Michael actually started laughing when he saw me.

"What?" I asked, looking down at my outfit, and wondering if there was a huge stain I was missing or something. Had I gotten dirt on my white shirt?

"You're going to freeze to death," he commented.

I scoffed. "It's not that cold outside. It's like 40 degrees."

"Yeah, but there's wind chill."'

"Thanks for the concern, Michael, but I'll be fine," I said as I took a seat at the kitchen bar. He slid me a bagel and cream cheese. "Where's Aunt Gemma?"

"Already at work," he said. "She should be back in time for dinner."

I took a bite of the bagel. "Do you have any leftover coffee? I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, I can make it for you. How do you like it?"

"Two sugars, and a dollop of cream," I mumbled through a mouthful of bagel.

He quickly made me a tumbler of coffee and handed it to me. Seattle Publishing Company was printed boldly on the side. "It leaks a lot, so make sure you're careful with it."

"Uh-huh," I agreed, taking the last bite of my bagel. "Ready to drop me off at school?"

He tut-tutted. "They grow up so fast. It feels like just yesterday when we brought you home from the hospital."

"Hardy har har," I said dryly.

"Meet me in the car. I have to find the keys."

I slung my backpack back onto my shoulder, and headed out into the garage with my tumbler gripped tight. Aunt Gemma had taken the blue Prius, so we were driving Michael's black Chevy Mustang. Not the kind of car you'd expect a nerd to drive, but I guess Michael was full of surprises. He made me think of a guy who was mercilessly bullied by the cool kids, so he tried to become one.

On the car ride to school, every bump we went over caused the coffee to spill. I was suddenly really glad I wore a black skirt. Every movement made the lid of the tumbler come flying off.

We pulled up to the front office. "Do you want me to come in with you?" Michael asked.

I shook my head. "Nah," I replied. "I should be fine. I'll text you when school gets out, okay?"

That was another thing that I'd gotten when I was shopping yesterday. So far, the only numbers on it were Michael and Aunt Gemma, as well as Maria, my best friend from back home. I had her number memorized.

"Good luck at school today. Try not to make any enemies!'

I rolled my eyes as I got out of the car. "With family like this, who needs enemies?"

I heard him laughing as I closed the door and headed into the main office. There was a secretary sitting behind the main desk - a large woman with red hair and thick black glasses similar to Michael. She perked up as she saw me enter.

"Hi," I said awkwardly.

"Diana Ramos, welcome in!" she said brightly. "My name's Ms. Cope, and I'm the secretary here at Forks High. Michael's told me so much about you!"

Did he? Yikes.

"Ha." I laughed, trying not to cringe at how dumb I sounded. "Crazy."

"We received your transcript from your old school last night, so this is your permanent schedule!" she said brightly, handing me a blue slip of paper. I looked down at it with intense anxiety and read:

1st - Calculus AB - Mr. Varner

2nd - Biology II - Mr. Banner

3rd - US History - Mrs. Beck

4th - PE - Mr. Clapp

5th - English - Ms. Foster

6th - Advanced Spanish - Mrs. Goff

God, it was worse than I'd thought. "Ms. Cope, I've already taken Biology. And I'm fluent in Spanish. I don't understand why I'm taking these classes, I thought you'd received my transcript."

She nodded sympathetically. "It really is quite unfortunate. In our school district, in order to fulfill graduation requirements, we require everyone to take the same biology class. We also require everyone to take a language class, whether they're fluent or not."

That sucks. And PE? I hadn't taken PE since 8th grade. The only physical activity I was good at was softball. Throwing, catching, and running? I can handle that. Once you ask me to play another sport, like volleyball or soccer, I immediately lose all coordination. Great. This was going to be fun.

"Class starts in five minutes, Diana. I suggest you get a move on," said Mrs. Cope with a toothy smile. "Here's a map of campus. The classroom numbers are listed on your schedule. If you need anything, let me know!"

"Can I take a Spanish proficiency test to test out of the class?" I begged. I was going to be bored out of my mind in Spanish otherwise.

She shook her head. "Have all your teachers sign the schedule, and bring it back when you're done!"

So this is what purgatory is like.

I trudged out of the front office and was immediately blasted by a gust of cold air. I felt the cold penetrate me down to the bone. Jesus Christ, Michael wasn't kidding about wind chill. I gripped my schedule with one hand and my coffee with the other, and half-ran towards where I thought the Calculus classroom was. I hadn't even had one class yet, and I was sure this school is going to be hell.

Just get through this year and a half, Diana. I tried to psyche myself up. Keep your head down, and get to college. That's all you need to worry about-

As I turned blindly around the corner, I ran head-first into a taller blonde girl.

What's the most basic physics lesson there is? Inertia, right? Objects at rest tend to stay at rest, and objects in motion tend to stay in motion, unless acted upon by an outside force. Well, inertia decided to play a very important role in my life. As I ran into the girl, I stopped moving. My coffee did not, and it spilled coffee all over her white blouse.

Everything stopped. I swear, I've never seen a school hallway this quiet.

"Oh my god," I choked out. "I-I am so, so sorry."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed, her face turning bright red with anger.

"Um, sorry? I'll buy you a new shirt or whatever else you need-"

"You did this on purpose, didn't you? Do you think this is funny?"

I didn't even know how to respond. She was almost comically mean, like out of a teen movie or something. "No?"

"You have it out for me, don't you? You dumb bitch. Who do you think you are?"

I again found myself at a loss for words. Luckily, I didn't have to answer, as someone grabbed the back of my cardigan, and roughly pulled me through a doorway. The door slammed behind me, as the red-faced girl kept screeching at me. I turned to thank my savior and saw two girls. One was tall and skinny, with dark skin and curly black hair. The other was shorter, with long red hair, green eyes, and red glasses.

"Thanks?" I said nervously.

The dark-haired girl nodded. "You're the new girl, aren't you? Diana Ramos, Mr. Karlsson's niece?"

"Yeah," I breathed out, looking around. It looked like we were in a bathroom.

"Oh God, you messed up this badly on your first day?" asked the redhead sympathetically.

"Who is that girl?" I asked, and then paused. "Who are you?"

"I'm Zoe. Zoe Graham." answered the dark-haired girl. "This is Natalie Spencer," she said, pointing at her red-haired friend. "That girl you had the pleasure of spilling coffee all over is Mila Jackson. She's a mythic bitch. Her dad's also the superintendent of Forks High School District. She has every teacher under her control. So basically, be prepared for the rest of your time here to be miserable. Why did you even spill your coffee on her anyway?"

"I didn't mean to, I swear!" I said desperately. "I just turned the corner and she was there."

"Wow. You have terrible luck," commented Natalie with a small smile. I'm glad somebody found my misfortune amusing.

A toilet flushed, and the bathroom stall opened to reveal a short guy - maybe a freshman. He turned pink at the sight of three girls. "What are you doing in the boy's bathroom?" he asked squeakily.

Zoe gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. "This is the girl's bathroom! Get out of here, before I tell Principal Greene that you're a pervert!"

The kid quickly ran out of the bathroom without washing his hands.

"Cruel," commented Natalie. I peeked around the corner to see urinals. This was definitely the boy's bathroom.

The bell rang.

"What's your first period, new kid?" Zoe asked, snapping her gum.

I scanned my now-coffee-stained schedule. "Calculus with Mr. Varner."

Natalie smiled shyly. "I have him too. Come on, I'll show you where the class is."

"Aren't you freezing?" Zoe asked me as she poked her head out of the bathroom, making sure the coast was clear.

I sighed. Michael was right about wind chill. "Yeah."

As we went into the hallway, Zoe waved goodbye to us. "Wish me luck in French. Try not to get yourself killed, new girl."

Natalie and I made small talk as we went to Mr. Varner's class. She told me that he was nice but really strict on his homework policy.

As we entered the classroom, Mr. Varner was passing back tests. "Ah, Ms. Spencer, thank you for joining us." he handed her a test face-down. "Better luck next time. And I suppose you must be Diana Karlsson?"

"Um, Diana Ramos, actually. Michael Karlsson is my uncle. No blood relation. I'm sorry we're late. I got lost, and Natalie helped me out."

That wasn't necessarily a complete lie. It was 50% lie. I handed him my schedule, and he begrudgingly signed it.

"Take a seat in the back next to Ms. Spencer. I'll expect you to be on time tomorrow."

As I sat down next to Natalie, she gave me a big thumbs-up. I sank down into my seat and tried to take a sip of my coffee, only to find it was completely empty. And I was still exhausted. Good god, what have I gotten myself into?

* * *

My second period was going by painfully slowly. I'd already taken biology and frankly couldn't care less about it. I liked Environmental Science, which while related, was far more interesting. I was sitting in the back of the class, doodling on my paper while Mr. Banner lectured. I drew a grumpy-looking Aunt Gemma and a meek Michael.

"Psst. Hey, new kid."

I tried to pretend like I didn't hear the kid in front of me.

"Diana, right?"

Crap. I sighed, looking up at him. "Yeah?" I asked, chewing on the end of my pen.

"I'm Mike Newton. You're new in town, right? Michael Karlsson's niece?"

I knew Michael was a local celebrity because of his book, but this was getting out of hand.

"Oops, sorry, I just missed what Mr. Banner said," I lied poorly. "I love biology. Don't want to miss a second!"

"How's life in Forks?" he asked anyway, ignoring what I said. "Rainy, right? Haha ."

I chewed on my pen harder. "Haha," I repeated.

"Why did you come to live with Mr. Karlsson? Everyone's talking about it."

"Really?" I asked dryly.

He nodded. "I heard it was because your parents died. Is that true?"

My heart sank so far, it hit the floor. I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times before I choked out - "That's not true. Why would people just assume that?"

"Oh, they're not dead? Wow, it must feel so weird to have a rumor like that go around-"

"Yeah, it is weird," I said through my teeth. "My parents aren't dead."

He nodded sympathetically, "You probably just left Belize because of Hurricane Baxter, right? Was your school destroyed or what?"

I've never understood how people could kill each other. It always seemed crazy to me. Now I understood. "No, my school's fine. It needed a change of pace, and this seemed like the right time. If you'll excuse me, Mike, I really want to focus on biology."

For the rest of the painfully long period, he tried to make small talk. Every time he tried, I would pointedly look at the board. I swear, I'm not usually a rude person, but he really rubbed me the wrong way. He was way too nosy.

Was this what all Forks residents were like?

Eventually, the bell rang, signaling the end of the longest period ever. I darted out of there as quickly as I could. I'm sure Mike is usually a super nice guy, but Jesus… I'd reached my breaking point with him.

My third period was a bit more interesting, but I'm not sure if it was for a good reason. I sat in the back (are you sensing a theme?). Two girls in the middle of the class wouldn't stop staring at me. One of them was a small, black-haired girl, with the smoothest skin I'd ever seen. I don't know what skincare routine she was on, but I needed it. The other girl was a bit more realistic-looking, with long brown hair and matching eyes. She had a cast on her leg, which almost made me laugh. Forks was a comically safe town. What'd she do, trip over her mom's tulip garden?

I tried to take notes that period, I really did, but the black-haired girl wouldn't stop turning around in her chair and looking at me. It honestly creeped me out a bit. I know that new kids aren't that common in Forks, but I was feeling a bit like a zoo animal.

4th period signaled PE. Urgh. Kill me now.

"Diana, would you mind introducing yourself to the class?" Coach Clapp asked me. I was ready to end it.

"Hi, my name's Diana," I said a bit too quietly. "I just moved here from Punta Gorda, Belize."

Technically I was from a rural area outside of Punta Gorda, but nobody cared about that. Coach Clapp handed me my uniform and told me I could just watch for today, and that he would put me on a team tomorrow. Sounded good to me. This unit was volleyball, so I was absolutely going to make a fool out of myself.

Coach Clapp started taking role. It was a class of thirty people, so it went by rather quickly.

"Jasper Hale? Is Hale not here today?" he called out to the gym. No one responded. He put an x on his paper.

One other name grabbed my attention. "Mila Jackson?"

"Here," responded the blonde bitch. I noticed that underneath her Forks High PE jersey, she was wearing a black shirt. I couldn't hope but wonder where she'd gotten the change of clothes.

I sat on the bleachers all period and avoided eye contact with Mila. She wouldn't stop glaring daggers at me. If she weren't so rude, I would've felt bad about spilling coffee on her. Now, though? I didn't feel terrible about it.

Jesus, I was barely halfway through my day at Forks High, and I always already knee-deep in shit. Sounds about right.

* * *

 **Okay, so there's that. I really hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter is the second half of her first day, where she meets a certain somebody.**

 **Please let me know what you think of Diana, Zoe, and Natalie! And, of course, Mila. Yikes.**

 **Reviewing really means a lot, as I'm sure a lot of you other authors out there know. Even taking a second to review can make my day :)**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


	5. 4 - Spanish

**Okay here we go! The chapter you've all been waiting for... Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! Like I said, it really means a lot. You guys are freaking awesome. I also got a whole bunch of follows and favorites. It warms my heart!**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

At lunch, I grabbed a salad and a carton of milk and looked out over the Forks High cafeteria. There was a comically bad mural of a spartan on one wall, and a large window showing the lush green forest that surrounded the school.

"Diana! Over here!" called a voice, and I prayed to God it wasn't Mike. I scanned the cafeteria, instead seeing Zoe and Natalie sitting in the corner furthest from the cafeteria entrance. They were waving at me to come and join them.

I walked over and thanked them as I sat down. "I probably would have eaten in the bathroom if you didn't invite me over," I said honestly.

"No problem. I think Mr. Karlsson would have killed me if I let you eat alone," said Zoe with a shrug.

I let out a sigh of disbelief. "Is Michael just a local celebrity? I feel like everyone knows him."

Natalie and Zoe exchanged a look. "I mean, kind of," answered Natalie. "He's the nicest guy ever. He comes to every sports game to cheer on the Spartans. If you're short on money, he'll spot you a few bucks, and never asks for it back. He's the kind of guy to change your flat tire for you."

I stabbed at my salad, feeling a bit like they knew my uncle better than I did. "So he's basically everyone's best friend?"

"Basically," agreed Natalie.

I chewed slowly on a piece of lettuce. _Great_. My thirty-six-year-old Uncle had more friends at Forks High than I did. "What about my Aunt Gemma? What do you know about her?"

"Not much," admitted Zoe. "She's definitely more introverted than your uncle. I only see her every now and then. When I broke my wrist a couple of years ago, she patched me up. She used to work at the Forks Hospital, but she moved, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she works at Port Angeles General Hospital. She's a pediatric surgical nurse or something." I answered. "How'd you break your wrist?"

One of Zoe's hands subconsciously twisted the other's wrist. "Playing softball. It was a totally dumb mistake. I tried to catch a ball with my non-gloved hand, and it hit me square in the wrist. Gave it a nice clean break."

"You play softball?" I asked brightly. I was starting to really like Zoe and Natalie.

"Yeah!" Zoe answered, equally as happy. "I'm a pitcher. Do you play softball? Mr. Karlsson never told me that!"

A grin split across my face. "I play catcher! Do you have any spots open on the team?"

Zoe's face froze.

A sinking feeling hit me. "Oh, you do, don't you? Damn. I guess maybe next year I can try out-"

"Diana Karlsson-"

"Ramos, actually."

"Diana Ramos," continued Zoe, "Call it _fate_ , call it _destiny_. The one spot on the team we have open is a catcher. We were about to start our season with our relief catcher, who, bless her heart, is terrible. Please, please tell me you'll come to practice today after school."

Relief washed over me. "I'd love to, but I don't have any equipment. I'll buy it after school, though. Can I come to practice tomorrow?"

"No!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Jesus, Diana, of course you can. How good are you?"

"Decent," I said, trying to be modest. "I was team captain back in Belize."

"Maybe we'll win state this year!" piped up Natalie.

Zoe held up a finger to silence Natalie. "Don't jinx it, my dude. It's too early to make any claims like that."

I took another bite of my salad. "Natalie, what position do you play?" I asked through a mouth full of salad.

Zoe laughed. Natalie blushed.

"I don't play softball," said Natalie, "I have the worst coordination of anyone you've ever seen. Except maybe Bella Swan."

"Who's that?" I asked.

"She was the new girl before you. You've probably seen her around. Cast on her leg and everything. About two weeks ago, she fell down two flights of stairs and out a window."

"Holy shit," I said, scanning the cafeteria for the brown-haired girl who'd stared at me in my history class. I found her at a table with the black-haired girl from that same class. The black-haired girl was busy chewing out a blonde-haired boy who had his back to me.

Natalie snorted. "Check it out, Alice Cullen is yelling at Jasper Hale."

"Jasper Hale?" I said, "He was absent last period. Or maybe he just ditched."

"Probably," said Zoe. "Anyone who's sane knows to ditch volleyball with Coach Clapp."

"The Cullens are a big family who goes here," explained Natalie. "Dr. Cullen and his wife, I can't remember her name at the moment, adopted a whole bunch of kids. I think the only two who are blood-related are Jasper and Rosalie Hale. They're the two curly-haired blondes. Rosalie's dating Emmett. That's the tall black-haired one, whose biceps are bigger than my face. They're both seniors. Edward is the non-curly dark blonde one. He's dating Bella Swan. Alice, Jasper, and Edward are all juniors. In our grade."

"They're all _really_ pretty," I commented. "Is that a requirement to be adopted by Dr. Cullen?"

Zoe sniffed. "Probably. You also have to be a fan of camping. Whenever the rain lets up, Dr. Cullen takes them hiking. It must be nice to be pretty _and_ smart _and_ outdoorsy. The rest of us plebeians can only check one box at a time."

We all turned back to each other, instead of staring at the Cullen Clan (and Bella). "So, Diana, do you promise to come to softball practice tomorrow?" Zoe asked me.

"Sure," I said, "But you'll have to promise to show me around Forks in exchange."

"Deal," she agreed. "Are you free Friday night?"

I nodded, "I think so,"

"There's a bonfire in La Push on Friday. The weather forecast says it'll be clear skies for a change. You're welcome to come and meet the reservation kids."

"It's the Quileute reservation, isn't it?" I confirmed. Natalie nodded. "I'll double check with Michael, but I'm sure it's fine."

Zoe grinned deviously, "And if you want, I can hook you up with some hot Native American boys."

I nearly choked on my salad.

"Zoe's dating one of the reservation boys. His name's Embry. He has some friends, but none of them are particularly cute." Natalie said, "Trust me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," interjected Zoe. "I'm not _dating_ Embry. It's casual. He just hit puberty and became a sex god, so I'm hopping on that train before somebody else does."

The bell rang.

"What class do you have next, Diana?" Natalie asked me.

I pulled out my schedule from my back pocket. "English 11 with Ms. Foster."

"Sweet!" enthused Zoe, "We all have that class together. Foster is super chill. I'm 90% she puts vodka in her water bottle or something. It's a really boring class, and the easiest A you've ever gotten."

With that, we all headed off to English together. Zoe and Diana sat together in the middle of the class, and I noticed there was an empty seat next to them. Score.

"Hi. Ms. Foster?" I asked the young blonde woman at the front of the class.

"So, you're the new kid, huh? From Mexico or sumthin?" she asked, signing my schedule. She had the voice of someone who chain-smoked cigarettes. She smelled a bit like it too. "Go ahead and introduce yourself to the class."

The class all had their eyes on me. I felt my face grow hot, and I had no doubt that I was blushing like a maniac.

"Um, my name is Diana Ramos, and I'm from Punta Gorda, Belize. I'm excited to be here?" I said questioningly. _How do you even introduce yourself? What do you say?_ "Um, I play softball, and a fun fact about me is that I grow plants."

I stared at Zoe and Natalie, as though to say _save me._ They were both fighting back laughter.

At that, I snatched my schedule back from Ms. Foster and took a seat next to Zoe and Natalie. I slouched as low as possible in my chair and bit my lip anxiously.

The class was practically a free period. Ms. Foster gave me the books we were reading (Great Gatsby and the Scarlet Letter), and I just chatted with Zoe and Natalie for the rest of the period. They both gave me their numbers.

After that, I went off to my last class of the day - Advanced Spanish with Mrs. Goff.

" _Hello, Mrs. Goff,_ " I greeted her in Spanish as I entered the class. " _I'm the new girl from Belize. My name is Diana Ramos?_ "

" _Welcome, Diana,_ " said Mrs. Goff brightly. " _I see you speak Spanish fluidly! Would you mind introducing yourself to the class?_ "

"Sí, Señora," I said, handing her my schedule so that she could sign it as I talked to the class.

I faced the class, and found myself staring straight into the dark eyes of Jasper Hale, the boy who'd skipped PE. It was only for a millisecond, and he quickly looked away. I cleared my throat. " _Hello everyone. My name is Diana Ramos, and I'm from Punta Gorda, Belize. I enjoy playing softball and growing plants._ "

Mrs. Goff handed me back my schedule. " _Very good, Diana. Why don't you sit in the back next to Mr. Hale?_ "

Following her instructions, I walked down the aisle and sat down next to the curly-haired blonde boy. I took out a pen and paper, in case I needed to take notes. I probably wouldn't have to, but, well, you never know.

I let my eyes drift over to Jasper Hale, who sat next to me. He was tall and lean, and his blonde hair fell in perfect ringlets just above his collar. He had pale, marble-like skin, and bruise-like purple shadows under his eyes… And his eyes… They were pitch black. His hand was curled into a fist, causing tendons in his wrist to strain against his skin. His skin was also covered in scars, little crescent moons that glistened faintly under the fluorescent high school lights. The hand that wasn't clenched into a fist was covering his mouth.

He looked immensely uncomfortable like someone had left tacks on his chair and he was trying not to scream in pain.

Holy fuck. What was wrong with him?

Mrs. Goff was up front explaining irregular verbs. She told the class to turn to a partner and discuss their weekend using irregular past-tense verbs. I could have done this in my sleep.

Jasper clearly didn't want to talk to me, but I didn't want to flunk the class, so I talked to him anyway.

"Hola. Jasper, ¿verdad?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded stiffly. " _This weekend, I flew in from Belize and went shopping with my Uncle. What did you do?"_

He didn't answer. He still looked like he was in pain.

I bit my lip. He noticeably shifted uncomfortably. He was staring at his desk like it had personally wronged him. "Jasper, ¿estás bien?" I asked him quietly.

"Sí," he choked out. Despite the unattractive presentation of the word, his voice sounded beautiful. Smooth and rich, like dark chocolate. " _Sorry. I'm not feeling very well._ "

His Spanish accent was flawless. Color me impressed, white boy.

Mrs. Goff glanced in our direction.

" _I'm going to keep talking because I don't want Mrs. Goff to give us a zero. So, I'll talk ... I don't know, about Belize, I guess, because I was there last week..._ " I clasped my hands together. This was awkward. " _It's definitely strange to see how different the United States is from Belize. In Belize, we believe in being polite to everyone, you know? In Belize, you greet people on the street who you don't know and have conversations with almost everyone. Or maybe that's just because I lived in a small town."_ I laughed a bit. " _I think America is the polar opposite of that. I've not been following Belizean traditions very well since I've been here… I've been a bit rude to some people. Especially Mike Newton."_

Jasper was visually _way_ more anxious. He had leaned forward in his seat a little bit and was clearly trying to tune me out. His hand was still firmly clamped over his mouth. I took his body language as a sign that he didn't want to speak, and that I should keep talking.

"Jesus, Mrs. Goff, how long are we supposed to talk about our weekends… _"_ I muttered, glancing at our teacher. _"Um, in Belize, we listen to Afro-Caribbean music and American music. I mostly listened to American music growing up, but that's probably my mom's fault. Hmm, what else... I can speak both Spanish and English because we have two primary languages in Belize. Technically, English is our official language, but everyone I know speaks Spanish too."_ I drummed my fingers on the table. " _Oh, and I guess... folklore is an important part of the culture. In Belize, we believe in La Llorona, cadejo, the Tata Duende, and the X'tabai. Whenever I was bad, my dad told me that La Llorona was going to come and get me."_

His hand was still clenched tightly, not moving off of his mouth.

Now I was worried that I was rambling, but he didn't make any effort to talk, and I didn't want to get a zero on my first assignment of the year. Junior year _was_ important.

" _I think that's really it for Belizean culture. I grew up on a lemon orchard, so culture was a big part of my life growing up. I think that's just how it is in rural areas. My mom's actually from Washington, not far from here. My dad grew up in Belize. Uh, I play softball. That's how I got this scar on my chin. I got hit in the face._ " I said, tapping my chin. " _I don't think there's much else to know about me. I totally just gave you a three minute summary of my life and my culture._ " I finished with a shrug. " _Is Mrs. Goff staring at us anymore?"_

He shook his head, and as he did, Mrs. Goff called the class back together. She spent the rest of class lecturing on irregular verbs in the past-tense, which I tuned out.

Mrs. Goff let us pack up a minute before the bell rang.

"Sorry if I bothered you," I said hesitantly to Jasper, talking directly to him for the first time in English. I felt a little guilty. I probably annoyed the hell out of him. "I just didn't want to get a zero."

He ignored me, staring furiously at the ground.

With that, the bell rang, and he was gone in a flash.

It's funny - I could have sworn his eyes were darker than they'd been at the beginning of class.

* * *

 **Alright, so there's that. That was... awkward.**

 **I was originally going to have them be a bit nicer and more open, but I think it's totally unrealistic for Jasper to act that way around his singer. He just doesn't have that level of self-control. It'd be like if I met a guy who smelled like cheesecake. I guess.**

 **Anyway, please review! Let me know what you think of Zoe, Natalie, and Jasper. And if you have any questions, please ask! There really are no such thing as stupid questions.**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


	6. 5 - Detention

**Sorry about the bit of a delay on updating! I was trying to update last weekend, but this website kept crashing :( Well, hopefully it works this time. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I got asked if Michael was from Washington, or just Gemma. To be honest, I hadn't really decided until that review, but it spurred me to decide that Michael is from Forks.**

 **Again, sorry about the delay, but here's a chapter for you as an apology!**

* * *

After class, I returned to the front office to give Mrs. Cope my schedule.

"You survived your first day!" she said enthusiastically when she saw me. "How was it?"

Terrible. "It was great," I said instead, "Can't wait until tomorrow!"

I handed her my signed schedule, and as I did, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Michael, telling me he was outside.

"Ms. Ramos?"

I glanced up from my phone to see a depressed-looking middle-aged man. He was wearing a grey button-down shirt and slacks.

"That's me," I responded hesitantly.

"My name is Mr. Greene, I'm the principal here at Forks High. Can I talk to you in my office for a moment?"

 _What had I done?_ "Uh, yeah." I said, "Sure."

I followed him into his tiny office, and took a seat in an overstuffed red armchair. I gripped my backpack tightly. He sat behind his desk, which creaked when he leaned forwards on it.

"Now, Ms. Ramos, I've gotten reports from multiple students today that you were bullying another student."

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded. Maybe a bit too rudely. I toned it back. "Who did I bully today?"

He cleared his throat. "I was informed that you threw your coffee in Mila Jackson's face this morning. I have several eyewitnesses who claim that."

I stuttered for a second, before regaining my composure. "Mr. Greene, that's just not true. I turned around a blind corner and ran into her, and my coffee spilled. It absolutely wasn't on purpose."

"That's not what the eyewitnesses say," He said with a shrug. "Now, I don't understand why you'd want to bully Ms. Jackson like this. She's a lovely young woman, who frankly, is bullied far too much for my liking. She's never lied to me before, and I don't think she would start now. I just want to understand why you would attack her on your first day."

"Mr. Greene," I begged, "I didn't bully her, I swear. I'm not that kind of person."

He ran his hands through his thinning hair, and for half a second, I felt bad for him. "I heard that you were hanging out with Zoe Graham and Natalie Spencer. They're not exactly role models. Did they put you up to this?"

"No!"

"So you did it on your own accord?"

"Yes! I mean, no, I didn't even do it!"

"So now you're saying you never spilled coffee on her?"

I sighed angrily. "I spilled coffee on her, but it wasn't on purpose!"

"Ms. Ramos, I'm taking this very seriously, I just hope you realize that. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior at Forks High. I'll be letting you off easy with a detention, tomorrow after school."

Anger flowed through me, "Mr. Greene, that's the same time as softball tryouts! Can we please have it at another time?"

He shook his head like it was absurd I had even asked. "No. You have to learn your lesson. To be frank, you should be lucky that you're only getting a detention."

I took a deep breath. In… Out...

I wanted to cry and scream, but instead, I hissed through my teeth. "Fine. Detention after school, then."

"Detention will be in Mr. Varner's class. Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Ramos."

I snatched my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, storming out of the front office. I was seething. I suddenly hated Mila Jackson with a burning passion. She'd gotten me a detention on my first day, lied to the principal, and was going to make me miss my first softball practice/tryouts.

I got into Michael's car and slammed the door behind me.

"Bad first day?" he asked.

I sighed heavily. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

"Want to talk about it?"

I quickly explained what had happened with Mila, and how Mr. Green was unfairly punishing me, making me miss softball practice.

Michael scratched the back of his head. "That really sucks, Diana. Do you want me to say something to him?"

I sighed. "No. I don't want to be that girl."

Michael turned on the car and started driving out of the parking lot. "Well, um, did anything good happen today?"

"Yeah," I said cautiously. "I think I made some friends. Zoe Graham and Natalie Spencer."

"Great kids!" he said enthusiastically, "Zoe's mom is an absolute doll. I guess that's how you know about tryouts tomorrow, then."

I nodded. "They invited me to hang out on Friday. Can I go?"

"I don't see why not," he said.

I leaned over and turned up the radio. I didn't recognize where we were anymore. "Where are we?"

He answered my question as we pulled into the parking lot of a store. "Newton's Olympic Outfitters. You need softball gear, right?"

I stared at the storefront. "I dunno. Do you think they'll give me a second opportunity to try out?"

"Of course!" he said, "They'd be stupid not to. Do you have your wallet on you, or do you want me to pay?"

I must have turned bright pink because that was enough of an answer for him.

"I'll wait in the car," he said. "Let me know if you need any help with anything."

I grabbed my wallet from my backpack and ducked into the store. Who was behind the counter?

Mike. Fucking. Newton. Who else?

"Hey Diana!" he said brightly. "Crazy seeing you here!"

"Crazy," I responded dryly. I should have known. Newton's Olympic Outfitters. I must be incredibly thick.

He walked out from behind the counter. I suddenly became very interested in whatever was on the wall, as I tried to think of a way out of this. This was probably the only sporting goods store for miles.

"Do you need any help finding anything? I'd be more than happy to give you a hand!"

"Nope," I lied, now considering ways to fake my own death. Was a heart attack or a stroke easier to fake? "Already found it."

He made a bit of a confused noise. "You were, uh, looking for jockstraps?"

My eyes flew open. I had unintentionally been browsing the jockstrap section. Fuck. Come on, Diana. Think of a lie. Say you thought they were something else.

"Yup," I agreed instead. It was too late to turn back now. I had to own it.. "They're, uh, nice for, uh… A soap dish. In the shower. It keeps the soap… dry?"

He hesitated. "Interesting. I've, um, never heard of that before."

I grabbed the cheapest one off the shelf. "Well, there's a little life hack for you. You're welcome? Uh, where's your softball stuff?"

"Back left corner," he answered. "Is this jockstrap thing common in Mexico?"

"Belize," I corrected him automatically and then winced. Why was I antagonizing this conversation? "And, um, yeah, it definitely is."

No, it was not.

I started heading towards the back left corner of the store, but he decided to follow me.

"So, how did you like your first day of school?" he asked.

It was terrible.

"So great!" I said enthusiastically, "I can't wait for tomorrow!"

"Really?" he said, surprised. "I heard you threw coffee on Mila Jackson's face and gave her second-degree burns, then called her a bitch."

I guess small towns _really_ don't have a lot to do.

"That is wildly incorrect," I said, somewhat angrily, clenching the jockstrap harder, and then quickly releasing when I realized how gross that was. "What on earth is wrong with Forks High?"

He shrugged. "I'll tell Eric not to write about it in the school newspaper then. That was the first interesting news we've had since Bella fell down the stairs a while ago."

"Oh my god," I muttered, feeling like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Are you alright, Diana? You look really pale. You're almost a true Forks resident!"

I snatched a pair of sliding shorts from the wall, muttered something about trying them on, and ducked into the bathroom.

I slammed my hands on the sink and looked in the mirror. It was a bit streaky, and probably hadn't been cleaned in a while. I was noticeably paler than I usually was.

"Jesus Christ, Diana," I muttered, "Pull yourself together."

I focused on my breathing for a minute. In… Out… In… Out…

My hazel eyes were surprisingly animalistic.

"You can do this," I said slowly. "Mike Newton's opinion doesn't matter. Nobody at Forks High matters. Who cares what kind of rumors there are about you? They're all stupid, and anyone with a pulse can tell they're not true."

In… Out… In… Out...

I released my hands from their death grip around the sink. My knuckles were a stark white.

Once I felt like I'd gotten my shit together, I tried on the sliding shorts and found that they fit fairly well. When I went back out into the store, Mike was busy talking with a man about backpacks. I did the rest of my shopping in peace.

I ended up dropping almost $500 on softball gear. I was starting over from scratch, and needed a lot - a couple of softballs, a bat, glove, glove oil, batting gloves, cleats, batting helmet, catcher's gear, and a large bag to hold it all. A man who I assumed was Mike's father rang me up.

Up at the register, a coffee tumbler caught my eye. Heavy Duty! was printed on the side in bold letters. I added it to my purchase sheepishly.

"See you tomorrow!" called Mike as I left the store. I walked away faster.

As I got back into the car, Michael, the better of the two Mikes, asked, "So are you going to go to tryouts tomorrow?"

"Are you encouraging me to skip detention?" I asked. "Scandalous!"

"I'm not telling you to skip detention. That would make me a bad legal guardian. I'm just asking your thoughts on the matter."

I shrugged, and replied honestly, "I don't know."

We drove in silence for a while, until I pulled out my phone, a decision in mind.

See you tomorrow for tryouts! I texted Zoe with a faint grin on my face.

* * *

"Is Alice still mad at Jasper?" Bella asked Edward quietly. They were sitting at the dining table in the Cullen's house. Alice was reading a book across the room. The other Cullen siblings were somewhere upstairs.

"Yes," answered Alice, not breaking her eye contact with her book.

Jasper appeared at the foot of the stairs in a flash. "You shouldn't have taken it out on me at lunch," he said in his calming voice. "A lot of students were very curious about what was going on with us."

"Then you should have gone to PE," said Alice angrily, still staring at the pages in front of her.

"I'm not going to be going to PE for a while," he admitted, taking a seat on the windowsill seat next to her.

Alice got to her feet, slamming her book shut. She walked across the room at human speed, to dramatize her actions. She took a seat next to Bella and reopened her book. Bella glanced at the book. It was written in a language she didn't even recognize.

"Jasper, why did you skip PE?" Bella wondered out loud.

He shrugged. "I don't think I'm ready to meet Diana. I wouldn't have even gone to Spanish, but Alice threatened to make a scene."

Alice huffed angrily.

"Alice, darling, do you want to share with the class?" Jasper asked, clearly irritated with his sister.

He was starting to project his emotions, causing Alice to snap. "You can't postpone fate!" she said furiously. "You were supposed to meet in PE, and now you've gone and messed it all up!"

"I'm not going to PE with her!" Jasper snapped back, now visually losing his calm. His Southern accent was growing stronger.

"Why not?" Alice half-begged, slamming her book down on the table. "Jasper, this is the one thing that we've known was going to happen for the past sixty-plus years! Why are you trying to change what's been written in the stars? She's been your soulmate since before her mom and dad were born!"

Jasper was across the room in a flash. "How do you even know she's my soulmate?" he asked angrily. "All we know is that she's my singer. Since when are the two mutually exclusive?"

"I've seen your future together!" said Alice indignantly.

"I can't even stand to be in the same room as her! Do you know why I skipped PE today? Because the thought of her heart pumping made me want to rip her throat out." He snarled at Alice, his eyes darker than they'd been in a long time. "If I have to be in the same school as her, I'm going to have to go hunting every damn day. If I'd been even a fraction bit thirstier today, I would have snapped. Tell me how the hell that'll lead to a healthy relationship."

Alice was quiet for a moment. Bella and Edward exchanged a glance. "Things will change, Jasper. You need to make an effort to get to know her."

"She seems nice," said Jasper, trying to calm himself down. "She's pretty. But I don't think she's my soulmate."

Alice disappeared in a flash.

Jasper ran a hand through his long blonde hair.

"I can help you," Edward broke the silence. "Or I can try, at least. I felt the same way you do right now. I know it isn't easy right now, but it gets better with time."

"I don't have the self-control that you do," said Jasper, his voice much smoother now. His accent was almost gone again.

Edward nodded. "I can teach you the coping mechanisms that I use. After a while, they become second nature, and you barely even notice the thirst anymore."

"Why did she have to come now? Why couldn't she have shown up a century from now?" he lamented.

Bella was emitting feelings of surprise. This was the most she'd ever heard Jasper talk before. "Diana's in my history class. I can try to get to know her. Be, umm, your spy on the inside."

Edward shook his head, placing a cold hand on Bella's. "We shouldn't approach her for a while. We don't want to scare her off. You should have heard her thoughts earlier today - she's already so overwhelmed."

"Yeah, I could tell," admitted Jasper. "She wouldn't stop talking during Spanish. It was painful. She was oozing nerves."

"We'll take this one day at a time, Jasper." said Edward calmly. "Before you know it, her scent won't even bother you."

Jasper nodded glumly, but the doubt that ran through him was incredibly strong. How the hell was this going to work?

* * *

 **So, there was your apology chapter for you! I hope you guys enjoyed, and please let me know what you think with a review! If you have any questions or comments, I'd be happy to hear them.**

 **Much love,**

 **ElleLupin**


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